It's the End of the World as We Know it (And I Feel Fine)
by SuzanOfSouthern
Summary: Sam and Dean find themselves in Santa Barbara, California in need of a psychic. What they get is Shawn and Gus. (Psych and Supernatural AU) Other Characters involved: Bobby S., Shawn's Dad, Juliet, Lassiter, Woody, Castiel
1. Prologue

It was a dark night. The alley looked desolate, save a rat scurrying from one dumpster to the next in search of food. Shawn and Gus were trying unsuccessfully to hide themselves behind one of the dumpsters while straining their eyes to see beyond the chain-link fence that split the alley into two.

"I can't see, Shawn," Gus whispered, elbowing him so he could get some room to look.

"It's not your job to see, Gus; we're here to listen. And see, I suppose." Shawn gave up trying to see by Gus' side, and took a knee so he could look in the direction Gus was looking. They could see some men forcing a woman on her knees while another man stood above her with a blade. It was long, about a foot, and somewhat bright, as they could see that much more clearly than either the men or the woman. The one holding the knife was the one that spoke.

"Darling, you might as well just give it up. We know he's here. We know you know where he is. Now just tell me before I have to…. Well, let's not dwell on that. What I'm hoping is that you will give us the information we need and you can just… run along." Shawn could just hear the grin on the man's face, as if he were enjoying being a psychopath. The voice sounded smooth and deep, an accent highlighting every word.

"Gus," Shawn said, hitting his friend's knee repeatedly. "Gus, we need to—" Shawn looked up and saw a man grasping Gus' shoulder. "Man," he replied, slowly standing. He knew what was coming next.

* * *

Sam was on his laptop, quickly perusing the news, and saw that there had been an incident in Santa Barbara, California. After reading the article, he motioned to Dean. "Hey, we might be looking in the wrong area for you-know-who." Sam arched his eyebrows and Dean scanned the article. His face twitched. Wrong area, indeed.

"Well, how about we head over there after we take care of this vamp nest?"

Sam nodded. "Sounds like a plan." They quickly grabbed an axe and a machete, ready to get to work.


	2. Seen and Heard

"My name is Shawn Spencer, and this is my associate, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitt. Many people call him Jingly."

The man who was standing in front of Shawn and Gus had a tailored suit, a beard, and a dangerous look. They were tied up in chairs, and the man had that blade again. Shawn could see it much more clearly now. He zeroed in on the writing etched into the side. He locked it away, as he always did, in case it became useful later on. Gus was struggling against the ropes that held him. "I appreciate the courtesy, but I honestly can't keep you two here. Tell me why I should let you live."

Gus looked at Shawn, stricken with fear. "Shawn, tell him why we should live. Tell him, Shawn."

Shawn smirked at the man. "Because we have back-up, buddy." The man recoiled, his face darkening.

"Apparently, you're more dangerous than I thought. Edward, if you please." He nodded towards one of his associates, who grabbed the gun from his belt and pressed it against Gus' head.

"That didn't help, Shawn!" he cried, whimpering.

"The police will find our bodies and come after you, you sick bastard!" Shawn yelled, the man now perplexed.

"Wait, so you're not Hunters?"

"What? No; I don't look good in camo, and Jingly here can barely operate a paintball gun."

"Then what do you mean by back-up again?"

"SBPD, buddy. The police." The man interrogating them chuckled.

"You had me worried for a moment. The police can't stop me. Ed, Steve, Bill, we're done here. These men don't know anything. Let's go." As Shawn and Gus blinked, every single person disappeared from sight. They were still tied up, and still in need of help.

"You can't just leave us like this!" Shawn yelled again, miffed and also intrigued at what had just happened. Gus didn't know what to make of it. He just wanted to be untied. He tugged again, hard, and fell flat on his face. When he reached down to push himself back up, the ropes had disappeared as well. Shawn was looking around himself in amazement, but Gus' stomach was feeling nauseous. What the hell were those things?

* * *

"Okay, Sammy, who are we looking for?" Sam tapped his phone a few times, checking who the local psychics were in the area. He found one in particular that had an astounding record of success.

"Well, I just found one that seems to be pretty good, considering the police use them as consultants." Sam frowned. "Kinda odd that the police are using psychics for help with police cases. You'd think the psychics would lay low."

"Yeah, but if they have a premonition about a murder or something, why wouldn't they go to the police?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam.

Sam pursed his lips. "True. I guess it's not that weird. We're headed to the Psych office then."

Dean gave Sam an odd look. "They have an office?"

Sam shrugged. "Apparently. Take this next exit." Dean guided the car onto the exit towards Santa Barbara.

* * *

Shawn and Gus had slept in the office, a little shaken by what had happened the night before. All they wanted was to find out what Grace Galloway told the man that had taken them. Shawn and Gus had been apprehended before hearing anything. They were woken up by a knocking on the door. "Gus, get the door."

"You get the door, Shawn. I'm tired and scared. You got us into that mess, you can get the door." Gus covered his eyes again as Shawn huffed, got up, and went to the door. He opened the door to two men in suits, one with short hair and the other with hair to his shoulders.

"Hello, gentlemen, what can we do for you?"

The tall, long-haired one spoke. "We're looking for Shawn Spencer, the psychic." The prospect looked promising, so he invited them in. Gus sat up.

"Who are they?"

"I didn't catch their names. They said they were looking for me, so I let them in. So…. What do I call you? Rocky and Bullwinkle?"

"Shawn!"

"What? He's tall, I couldn't think of anything else off-hand."

"So how did you figure out which suspects to question?" Dean asked, trying to gauge Shawn's reaction to the question. He didn't know the psychics out there, so he wanted to make sure that Shawn was legitimately psychic.

Shawn blinked. "Well, I divined it, of course. I have visions, and my visions lead me to the people that have committed crimes. I call the police with the information, and they always confirm that I'm right." He smiled like a know-it-all. Sam narrowed his eyes. This didn't sound like any psychic they knew.

"But how do you divine it? Just by visions, or do you have to be physically at the scene?"

"My psychic powers are enhanced when I can touch and see things at the scene of the crime."

Sam and Dean gave each other a look that read they knew he wasn't a real psychic. Real psychics, or at least, the psychics they knew, had visions almost exclusively. Sometimes, they could have a vision when touching a singular item far from the crime scene or building itself. Still, they seemed to know a lot about the case. Sam pulled Dean aside.

"Look, he may be a real psychic, he may not. I'm leaning towards not. But he can get us in with the police force, and we could get information a lot easier if we had them at our side. Deal?"

Dean looked back at the duo, Shawn and Gus now fighting over the last of the left-overs in their mini-fridge. "All right, let's do it. They can't possibly get any worse, right?"


	3. Hey, Hey, They're the FBI

Dean and Sam followed Shawn and Gus into the precinct, glad they had taken their own vehicle instead of hitching a ride with them. They were bickering like an old married couple.

"Look, all I'm saying is that seeing Bob Saget doing stand-up really ruins his character for me on 'Full House'. Exact opposite for Kirk Cameron though."

"Why are we even arguing about this in the first place, Shawn? It's not like it really matters in the grand scheme of things."

"Because, Gus, even people like Bob Saget should at least have some sort of dignity when ruining people's childhood." They walked past the desk towards the detective area. Dean spotted an attractive woman in the area they were heading to. Shawn noticed immediately that Lassiter wasn't in his usual spot. Strange. It wasn't like Lassiter to be gone. He must be sick or something.

"Hey, Jules, where's Lassie?"

"Lassie? Who the hell calls a person Lassie?" Juliet saw Dean as he spoke. She didn't know how to react, so she settled for talking with Shawn.

"And who are they, Shawn?"

"FBI, Jules; they're here to check on the murders that have happened in the past week. They said they needed a psychic and the police's help in locating suspects. Again, where's Lassie?"

"Lassiter took off a couple days. Why, what's up?"

"Lassie never takes time off; where'd he go?"

"He wouldn't say, just that he needed some time to himself. Shawn, is everything okay?"

Dean took the break to try getting her attention. "Agents Butler and Ward, ma'am." He flashed his FBI badge with a smile. "We just wanted to talk to him. We've been working on the Harmon case, trying to get some suspects to interview and insight about the area. Would you happen to know anything that might help us? Spare no details, if you could."

"Well, I guess I can try," she said, catching Dean's eyes. She saw the way he was looking at her, and couldn't help but smile back. Shawn saw the exchange, and butted in.

"Look, Knight Rider, we're here to work, not to make kissy eyes with the detectives," Shawn interjected, stepping between the two. Dean's smile just got bigger.

"I'm okay with being Hasselhoff. Dashing man, if I do say so myself, wouldn't you say, RC3?" Dean replied, stunning Shawn with his comeback.

Gus and Sam both looked impressed at this bit of knowledge. Shawn huffed in anger. "I didn't know you remembered that much about Knight Rider," Sam said.

"C'mon, Agent; who here hasn't seen 'Knight Rider'? That show was awesome." Juliet was trying not to laugh. Usually no one got Shawn's 80's insults or references. The fact that the FBI agent had one-upped him made it funnier. Dean turned back to Juliet. "So, any chance you could help us out?"

"Gladly," she said, throwing Shawn a confused look. He hung back as Dean went over to her desk to get the information that he and Sam needed to start their own personal investigation into the cases.

"Hey, Shawn, why are you here? I didn't call you," Henry said. The liaison officer looked his son squarely in the eye, and noticed the other two men that had come with them. "Who are they?"

"FBI, Mr…..?" Sam held out his hand. Henry grasped it firmly and shook.

"Spencer, Henry Spencer. And you are?" He had let go, hoping for a good answer.

"Agent Ward. We're here about the Harmon case." Henry gave him an odd look.

"The Harmon case? That's just a standard murder case, isn't it? Why would the Feds be here for that? Who's your superior?"

"Sir, while I respect your inquiries, this is a case they put us on. If you want to talk to my superior, here's his card. He figured that someone might have questions." Sam handed him a card with the name Tom Willis on it. "Am I right in assuming you're his dad?" Sam asked, glancing at Shawn.

"Astute observation, Agent." Henry rolled his eyes. He never was a fan of the FBI, or any other agency, really. He dialed the number and waited for Tom Willis. The phone picked up.

"Hi, this is Tom Willis; my agents got word of the incident and are there to—"

"Bobby? Bobby Singer? What the hell is going on here?" Sam was confused. Shawn and Gus noticed.

The man on the other end cleared his throat and started talking again. "I'm sorry, but you must have me confused with—"

"No one. I remember your voice, Bobby. I'm not stupid."

"And you are?" Bobby shot back.

"Henry Spencer, Bobby. The—" Henry started, then realized Shawn was near. He settled for, "—incident, Santa Barbara, 1987? Ring a bell?"

"Spencer?" Henry could hear cursing on the other end. "I thought you had retired." Henry smirked.

"I did; they hired me back as a liaison for outside consultation."

"Well, shit. There goes Sam and Dean's cover. Listen, we have reason to believe that something, or rather, someone nasty is down in Santa Barbara. Sam's the tall one, Dean's the more sarcastic one. If you could help them out, I'd really appreciate it."

"Yeah, sure thing, Bobby." Henry glanced at Sam, who had hardened his gaze. "No problem." He hung up the phone, turning to Sam. "So, Agent Sam Ward, what is it exactly that you're trying to find out?"

Dean had chosen that exact moment to get Sam up to date. "Mr. Spencer, we've got everything that we need to figure out what exactly is going on. Agent, let's go. Thank you for your help, Shawn, but we can take it from here."

Shawn stood up from his lean against his dad's desk. "What do you mean, 'take it from here'? You said you needed my help."

Dean and Sam squarely looked him in the eye. "We've got this covered. I thought what we needed was you, but we really ended up only needing Ms. O'Hara's reports and suspect leads. Thank you for your time," Dean replied. Sam quietly asked Henry for his number, in case they needed to call him for anything. Henry slipped it to him before they left the precinct. All in all, not a bad deal for the Winchesters, but Shawn was hell-bent on finding out what was going on.


	4. Lunch Date

**So sorry about the wait; my family and I were driving and moving from MS to CA. We finally got things settled, so I decided to write a bit more. I didn't realize there were so many people who liked it! Feel free to tell me what I can do to improve, or if anyone's voice is off.** **Any information to add is much appreciated, and thanks for all the favorites and follows. You guys rock.**

 **EDIT: I had to change the meal. I realized they already had breakfast, and it would be lunch. Sorry for the confusion.**

* * *

"Dad, what is going on?" Shawn asked after the Winchesters had left. "Those aren't Feds, are they?" he asked quietly. Henry pressed his lips into a hard line.

"Yes, they are, Shawn. I just hadn't expected to know the supervisor. Now why don't you and Gus go get lunch?" Shawn narrowed his eyes. It wasn't like his dad to suggest he back off from a case, but he seemed more intense than usual about this particular case.

"Fine; we'll go over last night's escapades again to see if I missed anything." Henry's eyes widened.

"Shawn, what did you do?"

"You'll have to come with us to lunch to find out. I'm not too keen on the fact that you want me away from all this. You never tell me to stop going with a case."

"With this one, I would prefer it; now let's go before Gus keels over." They both looked over at Gus who was looking queasy.

"Let's go, Shawn; I'm starving." Henry let Juliet know that he was leaving with Shawn, and they set out to get lunch.

* * *

"Okay, so Lisa Harmon was killed last Tuesday, and Grace Galloway discovered her a few hours after the murder. Still no viable leads, but Grace Galloway also discovered two other bodies in as many days. I guess we need to find Grace to see what she knows," Sam said, sipping on a tea as they were waiting on their food. He shut the laptop as Dean took a long sip of Coke. "I don't know what to make of all this. How are any of these murders connected to Grace? Her work history is clean, no outbursts of anger, no firings; she was a model employee, from the reports they took. As far as the victims are concerned, I can't see any connection between them except they all had regular contact with Grace. Lisa Harmon was her apartment neighbor, Jason Gregory was the regular worker at the Chevron she went to, and Nathan Derth was a teacher at the same school she taught at. It doesn't make sense."

Just then, Shawn, Gus, and Henry walked in through the front door of the small diner they were in. "Oh lovely," Dean muttered, hoping Shawn would ignore them and sit down somewhere else. Unfortunately, Shawn's eagerness to find out what was happening overruled his common sense.

"Hey, agents! Fancy meeting you here," Shawn said, smirking as he had followed them from the station.

"Shawn, how about we sit over here, and let them work on their case?" Shawn looked at his dad, who was for the first time in Shawn's life, actively trying to keep Shawn away from a case.

"But, Dad, if I have information, I should be giving it to them, shouldn't I?"

"And what information would that be, Mr. Spencer?" Dean asked, folding his hands on the table.

"Where Grace Galloway is." The two men and Henry exchanged interested looks.

"All right, you tell us where she is, and we'll take care of it."

"How about I show you where she was, and I can divine for you where she currently is?" Sam glanced at Henry, who gave a slight nod.

"If that will be enough for you to get off our backs, then yes," Dean replied as the waitress came with their food. "Give us 5 minutes."

"How about you let us get lunch too, and then we can go?"

Dean gritted his teeth, trying to stay calm. "If that's what it's going to take, then fine." Shawn and Gus went to grab a table while Henry stayed to talk with them a minute.

"I'm sorry that my son is so….. keen on tagging along."

"You obviously know what we do; we'll keep them safe as long as they listen. I can't guarantee anything beyond that," Dean said. He grabbed a fry and stuffed it in his mouth. "Grace is the only lead we got in this case, and I'm hoping she leads us to the person we need."

"And who is that, exactly?" Henry asked, now on edge at Dean's words. He knew Shawn wouldn't listen, and he was scared. Just like in 1987.

"We're looking for two people, actually. The King of Hell, and Cain."

"As in, the first son Cain? The one who killed Abel? From the Bible?"

"Yes." Henry took the information in, then nodded at the two men. He turned to go back to the table, but Sam grabbed his arm.

"What happened in 1987? What was it?" Henry became very still, his face hardened.

"It was a…. fairy of some sort. I think Bobby called it a 'sprite'. Shawn thought he was pretending, and made a bargain with it in exchange for the deluxe Robocop that was out. The thing told him to sabotage my car, said it would be funny to watch. Shawn doesn't know about it. Bobby and I found out the sprite was making deals with all the kids in the area. One of them ended up killing his mom, and we found the thing and killed it before it could do more damage."

Dean tensed at the mention of fairies. "I hate fairies," he growled. "Damn things are nuisances."

Sam looked at him with slight indignation. "Shawn still doesn't know that it was real? Why haven't you told him?"

Henry looked at them. "He thinks everything is a joke. Do you really think he'll believe me if I tell him that the fairy he talked with in 1987 was real?"

"Yeah, probably not," Dean replied, now working on his bacon cheeseburger. "Go get some lunch. We'll finish here, and get changed. Suits are not good for catching bad guys." Henry nodded, then made his way back to Shawn.

"Why were you talking with them for so long, Dad?" Henry gave Shawn a half-smile.

"We had some information to go over, Shawn. Did you order already?"

"Yeah; I also got you the usual: turkey sandwich on rye with extra mustard and onion rings." Henry smiled for real this time.

"Thanks, Shawn. We gotta eat quick; these agents really want to talk with Grace." Shawn and Gus gave each other uneasy looks before the waitress came with their food. What were they getting themselves into?


	5. Woody and the Blown Cover

**AN: Thanks for the continued reading! I'm excited for you all to see a connection in this chapter, and am really wanting your thoughts on how I did it. Was it good, was it bad? Too fast-paced? Too slow? I would love to hear your thoughts! I'm having a lot of fun with this, and hope you are too. Also, I do not own these characters, no matter how much I want to.**

Dean and Sam had changed into their regular Hunter garb, and came back to the diner just as Shawn and company were finishing up their lunch. Henry paid the bill, and they all set out for the alley that Shawn and Gus had been at. "Well, you see, I got hit with a vision that she was going to be here; Gus and I couldn't wait for the police to come. We set out for this place, and we found her. Unfortunately, there were other people who had gotten her first. I saw her kneeling in front of a man with an Irish accent."

"It was Scottish, Shawn," Gus corrected.

"I don't think it was, Gus; I couldn't make out anything he said except 'I know that you know where a guy is'. He didn't say a name, and one of his goons caught us before we could hear anything else. He did threaten her life, so… there's that. But now that they're gone, let me see if I can see anything." Shawn placed his finger to his temple, and slightly closed his eyes. He zeroed in on footprints and noticed that part of Grace's skirt had torn on the fence. "Well, she tried to get away." He went up to the fence and pulled the fabric off. Then he noticed a piece of paper on the other side of the fence with the name of a local tavern on it. He pretended to be hit in the chest, and come to his senses. "She did get away, but I feel like the man may be at a tavern. I think we should check it out." Sam looked slightly impressed, but Dean wasn't sure what to think.

"All right, psychic, let's go." Just then, Henry got a phone call. It was from the station.

"There's been another victim; Woody thinks he found something on this one," Juliet said. "We need you to contact the FBI agents, and Shawn and Gus. He wants us all there."

"Got it, detective." Henry looked at the group. "Well, there's been another murder. Let's get back to the station first. They want all of us there, including you," Henry said, motioning to the brothers.

"We'll meet you there."

* * *

Henry showed the brothers down to the examining room; Shawn, Gus, and Juliet were already there. Shawn noticed that Juliet had put on a light coat of lipstick in addition to her eye makeup. "Jules, you look…. Nice today."

Juliet smiled. "Thanks, Shawn. You…. Don't look so bad yourself. Are the agents coming?" Henry opened the doors to let them in as she finished her question. "Oh, there you are," she said, beaming at Dean. Sam was right behind him and sniggered at her reaction. Dean drank it up. "Here I am," he replied, smiling equally as big. "Did you put on lipstick?" he asked. The slight redness that came to her cheeks gave him his answer. "It looks great on you."

"Agent, is that really professional at this moment in time? We're here to address another murder," Shawn retorted, hating that Juliet was interested in Dean.

"You are right, Shawn. It's not. So…. Where's the body and the mortician?" Dean queried. Juliet noticed that they weren't in their suits anymore. She didn't say anything, but thought it was strange. When Woody came out and Dean and Sam tensed up, she thought that was strange too.

Henry, Shawn and Gus also took note. "Do you three know each other?" Henry asked.

"Well, I'm not quite sure. Do you remember me and Sam?" Dean inquired from Woody. Woody looked at them like they had two heads.

"I have no idea who you two are. First time I remember seeing you in my life." Sam and Dean exchanged quizzical looks, then shouldered up and stood aside while Woody started in on the things he discovered from the most recent body in his morgue. He pulled the sheet down to the man's waist. "So, we have a white male, age 28, name Kyle MacDonald, was a cashier at the K-mart on Hollister Avenue. Not a bad store, actually. They have really decent priced shoes. I got these from there, and they've lasted—"

"Woody, let's get back to the body," Juliet interrupted. She wanted to know what he knew.

"Right. Back to Kyle. Well, he has a puncture wound unlike any I've ever seen." He pointed to the diamond shaped hole in his abdominal region, and shook his head. "I don't have a clue as to what would cause that kind of hole." Dean and Sam's eyes bore into Woody, waiting for him to talk more, like they were waiting for a confession of some sort.

"You've never seen a weapon like this?" Dean demanded.

"Dude, take a chill pill; he already said he didn't know," Shawn defended. "Why are you and Too-Tall here getting so worked up?"

"Woody, was this the only wound to Kyle's body?" Sam asked, shooting Dean a 'stop-being-a-dick' look.

"No, he also had a few cuts, and he also had skin under his nails, meaning he tried to fight off whoever killed him. I should have results in an hour." Juliet and the rest nodded while Dean and Sam shifted off to the side.

"Sam, are you freakin' kidding me right now? This guy has no clue what an angel blade is, or who has been using him?"

"Maybe we can talk with him after they all leave; it's no use bringing it up in front of all of them." They turned back to the rest, and only Henry stood there.

"Mind sharing what's going on with the rest of the class?" Henry asked, his eyes searching theirs. "Obviously, you know him. He doesn't have any idea who you are. How in the world does that happen?"

"Long story," Sam replied. He glanced at Dean. "Do you mind if we talk with Woody alone?"

"Look, I already know what you guys do. Is it that big a deal that I leave?" Dean sighed.

"I guess not. Better to have someone else here as a witness anyways. Woody!" Dean called, the mortician appearing in the doorway. "We got a few questions to ask you, if you don't mind." Dean was trying to control his anger, which was working at the moment, so Sam let him start asking the questions. "This may sound really strange, but do you know who Zachariah is?" Woody stilled at the question, his eyes looking away from the brothers. "You mean, you know who he is and you didn't say anything?" Dean growled. "Oh this is getting better and better!"

Sam interjected. "Woody, where is Zachariah?"

Woody met their gaze, then looked at Henry. He turned back to the brothers. "He left; said he didn't need me anymore."

"Dammit!" Dean released. He really was trying. His grip on the table tightened. Henry was just confused. Dean stared at the ceiling for a moment before leveling his gaze at Woody. "Did he tell you where he was going, or just that he was going?"

"He mentioned staying close by; said he was keeping an eye on someone. No clue who." Woody's eye were apologetic. "I never thought anyone would show up that had been in contact with Zachariah."

Henry spoke up. He still had no clue what was going on. "So, Woody, you're saying someone possessed your body, and used it…. Used it for what?"

"Being a dick," Dean cut in. "Zachariah is an angel who doesn't care about people. Actually, most angels don't care about people. Hell, I only know one who is genuinely concerned for our well-being. Anyways, so you probably don't know, but the apocalypse tried happening a few years back. Zachariah, that lousy, smooth-talking bastard, tried to get me to become a vessel for the arch-angel Michael, and they were trying to get Sammy here to be Lucifer's vessel so we could duke it out and end the apocalypse. Neither of us wanted it, so he convinced our half-brother to be the vessel for Michael. We tried saving him, but—" Dean choked up and looked away. He couldn't talk about it. He didn't want to. He felt like he had betrayed his little brother. He never talked about Adam because he felt guilty. It was always there.

Sam continued. "But we couldn't get us all out in time. Once Adam had been occupied, I decided to let Lucifer in so we could bind them both in the cage, thus nullifying the apocalypse. It worked, until I was resurrected. That's a whole 'nother story, though. Not ready to let you know everything."

Henry looked between the three of them. They believed it. Angels? ANGELS? But if there were angels, then there had to be— "Are you telling me that heaven, angels, demons, and hell are real?"

"All of it. And make sure you get to heaven." Henry had some research to do, but then he remembered the tavern.

"Shawn and Gus are probably at the tavern by now," Henry said.

"Shit!" Dean let out, heading to the door. "Let's go, Sam; we don't want Dumb and Dumber heading into something they aren't prepared for." Henry's chest tightened. Hopefully, Shawn and Gus hadn't taken off, like they usually did. Henry prayed that Sam and Dean would find them in time.


	6. Grace in Times of Trouble

Sam and Dean had hidden their guns in their waistbands, praying that Shawn and Gus hadn't left the station. Henry had given Dean Shawn and Gus' phone numbers. When they came back up from the department morgue, they were greeted by Juliet. Dean gave her a smile. "Hey, where did Shawn and Gus go?"

"How did you know they left?" she queried, confused.

"Because when you called Henry, we were on our way to a lead in the case together. Did they say where they were going?"

"No, just that they were following a vision. What is going on with you four?"

Dean flashed her another smile. "Nothing; don't worry about it." He caught Sam's eye and Sam nodded. He turned back to Juliet. "We'll take care of everything. Let's go, Sam." They made their way out of the station, Sam calling Gus' phone. Sam heard a "Hello?"

"Gus, it's Sam. Where are you guys?"

"We went to follow Shawn's vision; you on your way?"

"What's the name of the bar?"

"Wagers Down. We're almost there. Why? Is there something wrong?" Sam heard a screech, then a thunk.

"Gus? GUS? Are you there?" Silence greeted him. He clicked the phone off. By then, they were in the Impala. "Something happened; let's go. I'll nav." Dean slid out of his parking spot, and sped his way towards the scene.

* * *

Shawn groaned, his head pounding. Had he hit the side of the Blueberry? Ugh. This wasn't feeling too great. He blinked a few times to get his bearings, and realized it was almost exactly the same set-up as the night before. "Seriously?" he grumbled. He looked around, trying to find Gus. "Gus? GUS!" he shouted, hoping to hear something, anything.

"Shawn!" he heard faintly. So they separated the two. Hmm. Interesting. "It's okay, buddy! Stay strong!" Shawn heard wimpering, and prayed that they weren't being too harsh on Gus.

"So, his name is Gus, eh?" the velvety voice asked. Shawn's head snapped towards the Scottish brogue. "And you're Shawn, correct?"

"What's it to you, Scotty?" Shawn retorted. He hated that they had captured him not once, but twice, without any effort it seemed. "You sure are showing up a lot of places. Why don't you tell me what you're looking for?"

"Eh, it doesn't seem like you would know who I'm trying to find; what's curious is that you and your friend keep showing up in places where I don't want you to be. If I let you two go now, promise you'll stay away, and let me do what I need to."

"That's the thing, Scotty; I don't know what you 'need to do'," he said in a horrible imitation of the man's accent. A hand slapped him across the face.

"Don't. You try that again, I'll have my dogs tear you limb from limb." Shawn crumbled slightly from the hit and his jaw was now in agony. The man's ring had hit him squarely in the cheekbone. He lifted his head up, trying to catch a good look at the guy. "I wish I could just find the man my men had been tailing for weeks. Bloody detective, going off and leaving. Bloody hell." The man backed off of Shawn and stood up, Shawn seeing his face clearly. A well-kept beard, dark hair, tailored suit. Not tall, but not short either. Probably around 5 foot 10 or so. Beady brown eyes. And angry.

Shawn decided that the detective part would be best kept in his arsenal of tricks, just in case. The man clearly couldn't be talking about Lassiter. Lassiter just left, and there were a few other detectives that had taken time off recently too. It could be any of them.

The man shouldered himself, patted Shawn's face, and told one of the men guarding the door to release him. Shawn's observational skills had picked up absolutely nada as far as information. Only that bit about a detective, and the ring. Maybe that would be useful. His head got stuffed in a bag, the ropes were cut, and they manhandled him into a car, maybe a truck. He heard muffled screams, and knew that it was Gus. At least they were back together.

* * *

By the time Dean and Sam made it to the bar, (the navigation forgot to show that there were a few road blockages on the way,) Shawn and Gus had been dropped back off at their car. Shawn's hair looked really frazzled, and the brothers looked at them a little tensely.

"So, Gus, what happened?" Sam asked, bracing himself for an answer.

"Someone forced us to stop the car, and we got kidnapped. Kidnapped, Shawn!" he yelled, hitting Shawn in the arm. "All because you didn't want to wait for the FBI!" Gus hit his arm again, angry at his friend for being so eager to leave the FBI behind. Shawn rubbed his arm, feeling very beat up what with his face and all besides.

"Yeah, Gus, well you can just chill; they're not gunning for us, and as long as we don't investigate this anymore, they said they'll leave us alone." Dean and Sam threw each other a confused look.

"What do you mean, stop the investigation?" Dean queried. He had a suspicion that the man behind his was none other than the King of Hell himself. He wished he knew for sure. "Who did you talk to?"

"It was the same guy we talked with the first time, and I actually got a good look at his face this time. Last time, he stayed in the shadows, like in those old crime shows. Mysterious and whatnot. Anyways, he had a beard, a suit on, looked like a business man. I don't know what he really wanted. He didn't really say." Shawn at least had the information the man slipped still with him. "I think I'm done for today, though. Been rough." He flexed his jaw, and winced. The pain was still there from the ring.

Dean checked his face. "Dude, someone bitch-slapped you good," he said, inspecting the bruise forming on Shawn's cheekbone. He saw the ring imprint, the shape of it igniting a memory. "Well, Shawn, Gus, I think we should all go get some rest. Today was your lesson of 'never leave an FBI agent to investigate cases by yourself'. I'll follow you until you're both at your place."

"Oh, we don't live together," Gus replied, unlocking the car. "Shawn lives with his dad, and I got a place to myself." He slid in and the brothers snickered over the small bit of information Gus so casually gave them. Shawn gave a small sneer and huffed as he took the passenger side of the Blueberry.

* * *

"So, Sammy, what do you say we go back to that tavern once we drop these idiots off?" Dean glanced at his brother, who seemed to be in deep thought. "You all right, man?"

"Dean, I just don't know if we can let them do any more with us on this case. I saw Shawn's face; that was Crowley's ring. I know you saw it too. So my question is, what is Crowley doing here, and why is Zachariah hanging around? It all just seems too weird."

"It does, I'll give you that. Another reason I wanted to go back to that pub and do some of our own investigating. Bobby said Crowley only comes out when he's taking on big stuff. From how this is going, something big is coming our way, and we need to know what he knows."

"What about Grace? Maybe we can talk with her and see if she knows anything."

Dean looked at Sam. "That's not a bad idea; we could talk with her first, then go to the tavern? I'm kinda in the mood for a drink tonight."

"Sounds good to me." By then, they had stopped at Shawn and Henry's house. Dean gave Henry a small, two-fingered wave, and Henry gave him a tight smile back. He side-hugged Shawn, and followed him into the house. Gus left, Dean following him to the apartment.

* * *

"This is the address?" Dean asked, stepping out of the Impala. They had changed back into their suits so Grace would be more cooperative. It would be weird to see FBI agents in civilian gear.

"Yep; she's apartment 32." Sam buzzed the number. It snicked on. "Hello? Who's there?" Sam quickly replied, "FBI agents; we have some questions to ask you." The buzzer sounded, and they made their way through the gate. Since she was close to the entrance, it was easy to find her place. They knocked, and she opened her door enough to peek at them. "Badges," she demanded. When they flipped them open, and she took a good glance at them, she shut the door and unlocked it fully. She opened the door up, welcoming them inside.

"Had to make sure you guys were real," she replied. She sighed a bit of relief. "Been through a lot of unpleasant stuff recently."

"That's actually why we came to talk with you," Dean said. He looked around at her place. Light green walls, wooden shelves, a small sofa, and an armchair in the living area. There was a step up to what looked like a single bedroom, small dining space, and a small kitchenette. He smiled at her. "Mind if we sit?"

"Not at all," she replied. She had wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and a rather plain face accented only slightly by make-up. Not model looks, but like the girl-next-door. Her jean skirt went slightly past her knees, and her red button up shirt covered a white camisole. Dean then remembered she was a teacher.

Dean and Sam sat on the couch while she took the armchair. "I'm Agent Butler, this is Agent Ward," Dean said, settling in. "So in the past week, several people you interacted with on a regular basis have passed." She wiggled uncomfortably in her chair. "A teacher, a neighbor, and two cashiers."

Her eyes flashed. "Two cashiers? I thought only Jason was gone."

"They discovered a Kyle MacDonald only a few hours ago; he worked at K-mart on Hollister Avenue. Does the name ring a bell?" She averted her eyes. "So you knew him?"

"Yes," she replied. "We had gotten to know each other since I go there to buy my clothes. He was very helpful, and nice." It looked like she was about to cry. "Why are they doing this?" she said quietly.

"Ma'am, why are who doing what?"

"Those men; they said they would keep killing people until I told them what I know. I don't know anything!" she choked. "I don't!"

"What men? Can you describe them?"

"They wore suits; kidnapped me and almost killed me. I told them I didn't know anything. I think one was Scottish. He was the leader." She took a deep breath, holding back the tears for now. "He said I knew who someone was, and I told him I didn't know who he was talking about."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. "Okay, this is helping. I'm really sorry for your loss, but we need you to tell us anybody you've had regular contact with for the past two months. We need to know who they are trying to find, and who they might target next. Every bit will help, I promise," Sam said.

Grace swallowed her tears back, and tried to focus on the task. "Okay, I normally go to get my gas at the Chevron. I teach at Santa Barbara Middle School. I go to K-mart for clothes. I garden here so I don't have to buy as many groceries. I shop for the rest of my groceries at the Whole Foods Market. And I sometimes go for a drink or a bite to eat downtown."

"Any specific restaurant or bar?"

"I like Wager's Down for drinking; there's a few other restaurants around it I like to eat at. Uh, Ca'Dario, Savoy, Los Arroyos—those are my usual picks."

"Are there any people in any of those places that you usually talk with, or know enough that they might target them?" Sam inquired.

"Well, I talked regularly with Jason, Lisa I worked the garden with on the weekends, Nathan and I talked a lot during our lunch breaks, Kyle while I was checking out usually." She thought hard about her encounters lately, and remembered a few more people she connected with. "I know most of the cashiers at Whole Foods; there's an Amy, a Keith, Luke, and Maria. And then there's the guy I usually see at Wager's Down: Carlton. He never told me his last name, but we just talked about life, and we've done karaoke a few times together. He was really sweet. He hasn't been there lately, but he is a detective at the SBPD. I got that much out of him," she smiled, remembering the man. Dean and Sam looked at each other. Bingo. That's the guy they need to talk with.

"Miss Grace, thank you for everything. Here," Sam said, fishing out a card. "Call us if you need us." She smiled and thanked them.


	7. Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

**Sorry about not updating as much as I'd like; my life has gotten very complicated right now, so updates won't be very quick. I promise they will be worth the wait, just not as fast as I'd like. Thank you all for the likes, and comments. They mean a lot. I do not own the rights to either Psych or Supernatural, as much as I absolutely love these characters. Enjoy!**

Dean and Sam were at their hotel, changing back into regular hunter garb. Dean grabbed his phone and dialed Juliet's desk while he was putting on his boots. The phone wedged between his shoulder and ear, he smiled as she answered. "Hi, Detective O'Hara, this is Agent Butler again. We just got done talking with Grace Galloway and think we've found a lead."

He could tell her interest was piqued. "You did? That's great; what is it?"

"Well, it actually has to do with a detective who works there; would you happen to know a detective with the first name Carlton?"

"Lassiter? He's my partner. Why? What does he have to do with this?"

"Apparently, he and Grace were together a few times at Wager's Down; they told each other their life stories, had some drinks, sang karaoke—considering all this, is there any chance you could tell us where he went? We really need to know why Grace is being targeted, and he might have some insight as to why." Dean heard shuffling as Juliet scrambled to find where she had jotted down Lassiter's cabin address. It was one of the few places he went to on a regular basis; he told her that he liked to reconnect with nature every once in a while. To clear his head, to ease the stress of the police life. And to hunt. Mostly to hunt. She pulled open one of her desk drawers, and saw the post-it with his cabin address on top of her address book. She relayed the information to Dean, and he managed to grab the hotel stationary to jot it down. "Thank you so much, Detective," he said.

"My first name is Juliet, if you'd rather use that."

"Are you flirting with me, Detective?" Dean asked, smiling at her words.

"Yes; are you available for drinks later?" she queried, knowing she was taking a huge risk with the FBI agent.

Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes catching Sam's. Sam could hear the entire conversation, and rolled his eyes. "What?" he mouthed to Sam.

"Are we going to Lassiter's tonight?" he whispered.

"I dunno; I was thinking maybe start first thing in the morning. It's starting to get late," he said quietly, his hand over the speaker.

"Dude, seriously, you wanna go out with the detective, whatever. It's not my life."

"She could probably get us some more info on Lassiter," Dean offered. Sam squinted at him, then sighed.

"Fine, go; get details, get back here, and we can leave first thing." Dean fist-pumped the air, and went back to the phone call.

"Drinks sound great, Juliet."

Shawn was restless. He couldn't just sit back and not do anything. He called Gus. "Hey, man; what are you working on right now?"

"I'm finding leads for my pharmaceutical job, Shawn; this apartment, my car, and gas don't come free, and we're certainly not making any money on cases right now."

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go and do some digging on our Grace Galloway case, then. Alone." He could hear Gus muttering incoherently. "I'm going to head to the office, maybe talk with Grace." He heard Gus sigh.

"Just wait, Shawn; I'll be there in a half an hour."

Shawn and Gus had gone over their notes on the Grace Galloway case 3 times now, and still couldn't find anything. "Gus, why don't we call Juliet, and see if she has anything?"

"Or I could call Sam and maybe he can tell us if they found something." Shawn tisked, and turned away. "What is your problem with the FBI agents, Shawn? They seem like decent guys."

"That Agent Butler seems a little shifty," Shawn said, turning in his chair and playing with an action figure on his desk. "I just don't know about him."

Gus gave him a side-glance. "I know why you don't like him, but you and Juliet said you two weren't going to date; you can't pick who she likes and doesn't like, Shawn."

Shawn put his action figure down and huffed. "I know, I just wish it wasn't with some guy who's got such a perfect face. She laughed at me, Gus."

"Well, he did get you pretty good with that RC3 comeback." Gus grinned. It was rare, but oh so sweet when it happened.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Gus just shook his head and dialed the last number on his phone, which he knew was Sam. "Don't call them, Gus; don't—"

"Hi, this is Sam; who is this?" Shawn walked away; he didn't want to talk with either of them.

"Hey, Sam, this is Gus; we were just wondering if you guys had found out anything else about the Grace Galloway case, or if we could help you out in any way."

"No, not that I can recall. We've narrowed it down to a particular person, and for right now, it's confidential. We wanted to thank you both for all of your help with the case, but unfortunately, I don't think we will be needing you after all. Have a great night, Gus. Tell Shawn hi for me."

"Okay, I will; thanks again, Agent." Gus hung up, and shrugged at Shawn. "They said they got a lead, and don't need us anymore."

Shawn stood there with his mouth open. "What do you mean, they don't need us? They use us to get into the police department, and then bail without so much as a thank you?"

"Shawn, they did thank—"

"Unacceptable!" Shawn shouted, slightly angered by the ungrateful agents. "We need to go talk with Juliet about this." Gus sighed, then grabbed his keys and followed Shawn to the Blueberry.


	8. Caught Up in the Middle

**A/N: Sorry about not updating this very often. I've had a lot going on these past few months, but now that there's a break, I managed to get a few more words down, and some creative juices flowing. This is kind of short, but there will be more coming in the next week. Thanks for all the support, the follows, and the favorites! I am honored. Supernatural and Psych do not belong to me. And here we go!**

Dean and Juliet were enjoying some dinner near Wager's Down. Dean was planning on heading over there once he and Julie had said goodnight to each other. No reason to put her in harm's way. She was wearing a nice top and jeans while he was sporting his hunting garb.

"So, Juliet, how long have you been working as a Detective?"

"Oh, a few years now; better than being a beat cop, by far." Dean gave a small smile at that. She blushed.

"So you're pretty good with a gun, then?"

She smirked at that. "Decent; got sharpshooter last time I qualified." She took a bite of her meal.

"Impressive." Dean's eyes never left Juliet's face. "Impressive and beautiful." Dean took a big bite of his burger. They both took a minute to eat some of their meals, just looking at each other with a small amount of wonder and curiosity. Dean reached out to take her hand, and she let him.

Juliet's phone started ringing, and she grabbed it. Once she saw it was Shawn, she gave a small frown, then answered.

"Hi, Shawn."

"Hey, Jules! I was wondering if you had talked with the FBI agents lately." Juliet glanced at Dean, who could hear Shawn. He was glowering.

"Yeah, why?"

"I need to know what you told them so I can use the information to divine who these buffoons that caught me and Gus are."

Dean grabbed the phone from Juliet in anger. "Shawn, this is not a case for you. This is for us. Let us handle it, and we'll get back to you once everything's taken care of." There was silence on Shawn's end.

"Put Juliet back on the phone," Shawn said curtly.

"Not until I have your word that you'll stay put while we investigate the deaths and people involved. This is no longer your case, Shawn." Dean could hear huffing and tsks on the other end. After a few seconds, Shawn conceded. Dean handed the phone back to Juliet who was a little perturbed that he had snatched it out of her hand. He gave a look of regret, and she pressed the phone back to her ear.

"Sorry about that Shawn; I didn't know Dean was going to do that."

"Dean? Wow, I thought he was more of a Jason, or a Brad. Are you on a date with him?" Shawn queried.

Juliet gave a weak laugh. "Date? Who said date?" Dean just went back to eating his food. She swallowed. "Look, Shawn, it's just a quick dinner between colleagues. He has questions for me, okay?"

"He could have called you."

"He did, in fact. And I asked him, Shawn." More silence. "Well, I'm sorry about the information you needed, but you heard Dean. He and his partner are working the case now, not you. Please don't do anything crazy." The phone clicked off. Juliet stared at her phone for a moment, then up at Dean who was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"I thought we were on a date, but you know, I guess that's subjective." Dean stood up to grab his coat off the chair. "Thanks for dinner, Juliet."

"No, wait! Dean, I'm sorry I made it sound like a teenage drama, but Shawn and I are at a really odd point in our relationship."

Dean sat back down. "Obviously. So why don't you date him, if you like him?" Dean's arms rested on the table.

"We did, and he wasn't exactly who I thought he was. He seemed guarded about certain things, like he was keeping a secret. But this—" she smiled and reached for Dean's hand. "This seems right. At least for now." She grinned widely, and Dean did too. He leaned in as she did the same. Their lips brushed against each other's.

Dean couldn't help but think about how Shawn and he were alike in that regard. He didn't want to keep secrets, but it was the only way to protect people like Juliet and Shawn from those that wanted to do them harm. Dean took a quick glance around the restaurant, wondering if he'd see any of Crowley's cronies. Nothing out of the ordina—shit. He caught a guy's eye. The man's eyes flashed black as he whipped out his cell phone. Dean grabbed Juliet.

"C'mon, we gotta get out of here." Juliet yanked her arm out of his hand.

"Look, this was fine until you started taking my phone, and you're pushing it by touching me like that," she clipped. Her eyes were like storm clouds.

"Except I was followed, and I need to get you out of here. Now go." Dean motioned to the door, Juliet quickly taking the exit. Dean huffed, then followed suit.

As soon as he got past the door, he stopped. A man in a business suit had Juliet at gunpoint. Crowley, the King of Hell, was standing off to the side, a sinister smirk adorning his face.

"Well, Dean; didn't expect you to show up. But then again, it doesn't surprise me. I knew that Bobby would send the Winchesters to try and take care of me. Bloody Hunters."

Juliet's head whipped around at the name "Winchester". She looked back at Dean, then something clicked in her head. "Dean Winchester, brother to Sam. The men who murdered innocent people in Milwaukee, Wisconsin." Her face hardened in anger as she looked away. She went out with a felon! She rubbed her lips, mad that she had kissed him.

Dean tried to talk to her. "I—that wasn't me. It—it's hard to explain, but that wasn't me. Or my brother." He gave up when her demeanor didn't change. "I'm not even going to try right now. What do you want, Crowley?"

"I heard you may have some—information we need."

"Do I? I don't know that much, only that the grade-A douchebag Zachariah is keeping tabs on you. Not sure why you decided to make your appearance now."

"Because you are now interfering with my plans." He leveled his gaze at Dean. His eyes were lit up like fire. "And because I need to know where Cain is."


	9. Behind Blue Eyes

**Sorry about the delay. It's been a crazy few months for me. I've got some more of the story posted for you guys. Comment and like if you enjoy it!**

"Hey, Sam?"  
"Gus, hey. What do you need?"  
"Where were Dean and Juliet having dinner?" Sam stilled.  
"I'm not sure, why?"  
"We have questions to ask, and Juliet isn't picking up her phone. We were hoping to just stop by, and see if we could talk with her." Sam's gut instinct was that something bad was happening.  
"You know what? Don't worry; I'll go and talk with them about all this. What were you trying to find out?"  
Shawn had grabbed Gus' phone by this point. "Look, Sam, they're on a date, and I need to know what she told you about the detective." Sam's eyes narrowed.  
"We never told you that this involved another detective. How'd you know?"  
"Psychic, remember? I need to know what you know. That way, we can figure this all out." Sam's reservations about Shawn's psychic abilities were still tense, but his revelation caught Sam off-guard. "Now, are you going to help us or not?"

"Look, I don't know where he is. If you let Juliet go, I'll help you find whoever it is you're looking for."

"I don't need your help," she snarled. "I can't believe I ever thought you were different!"

Dean gave her an exasperated look. "Now is not the time for this. You can chew my ass out later, but I'm trying to get you out of here." Crowley chuckled menacingly.

"Your girlfriend, is it?"

"No," she stated, glaring at him. "Never."

"Well, then, you won't mind if we shoot her?"

"Don't!" Dean yelled, taking a step towards her. Juliet seemed like she didn't care what they planned on doing to her.

"Then stay where you are!" Crowley growled. "Your heart has always gotten you into trouble, dear Dean." He brought himself close to Dean. "I'm going to take Juliet, and she'll take me to Cain. After all, he's her partner."

Dean got slightly scared at those words, but tried to downplay it. He glanced at Juliet, who was actively avoiding his gaze. "Please don't; take me instead. I got the address. She doesn't even know demons or hell exist, and I want it to stay that way."

"Well, looks like she'll get a lesson about it tonight." Crowley gave a devilish smile. The sound of a blade cut through the air, and the man guarding Juliet crumpled to the ground. Castiel stowed his knife in his trench coat and stepped over the body. Juliet immediately drew her weapon and pointed it at him.

"Stop! You are under arrest for the murder of—the murder of that man." Castiel gave her a quizzical look, then turned back to Dean. "Stop where you are!" she shouted. Castiel did as he was told, but called to Dean.

"We got word that you and Sam were closing in on Cain." Dean's head cocked towards Castiel as he nodded. "And I see that the King of Hell got to you first." Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel.

"What're you going to do about it, angel?" Castiel's blade slid out from the trench coat. Crowley disappeared in a puff of smoke. Dean turned around to face Castiel, and saw Juliet's confused and horrified face.

"But—that man just vanished! And this one killed a guy!"

"That guy was holding you hostage!" Dean yelled.

"He didn't deserve to die!" Castiel was in between the two, unperturbed by the hostile argument. "Who the hell is this guy anyways?" Juliet demanded, her gun still pointed at Castiel. Her eyes darted between the two men as she waited for an explanation.

Castiel introduced himself. "I'm Castiel, servant of the Lord, protector and friend of Dean Winchester." He offered his hand, as he remembered it was customary to do. Juliet stared at him in disgust, and kept her gun up.

"Dean, who is he really? One of your cronies?"

Dean sighed. She was not going to let that incident slide. He decided not to entertain that idea right now since they had to get down to business. "This is Castiel, an angel. That guy that I was talking to was the King of Hell. Literal Hell." Juliet scoffed at the idea. Hell, angels… that was fairy tale stuff. But the way that Dean and Castiel were looking at her made her lower her weapon.

"Wait, you're serious. But there's no such thing as—"

Castiel touched her arm where she had gotten a bad cut from her apartment complex by taking a corner too fast. It was no longer painful, and when she checked it, it was gone. Completely. She took a step back, and gawked at Castiel. "—an angel," she breathed. Her hand went to her neck, and Dean saw a cross hanging from it.

"For someone who doesn't believe in angels, that's a mighty nice cross necklace."

Juliet was fingering it. "It belonged to my mother."

Dean ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry; I lost my mother too." They shared a brief moment of solidarity. Dean's phone rang. "Hey, Sam; what's up?" Dean paused, then turned from Cas and Juliet. "What do you mean, they're with you? I told you I didn't want them mixed up in this! Henry told us—" Dean grunted as Sam spoke. "Fine, but they're taking Juliet home once we're done talking." Dean looked to the sky. "You know what? I don't care what Shawn thinks. They don't know about angels and demons, and I'd prefer to keep it that way, Sam." He ended the call, and turned back to the group. Juliet was the first one to talk.

"So Sam, Shawn, and Gus are coming, I take it?"

"Yeah."

"And they don't know anything about this? The whole angel, devil…. whatever this is?"

"Nope. You just happened to be here at the wrong time." Dean forced a smile, and Juliet could see he hadn't wanted any of this to happen.

"Well, I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. I didn't want you involved in the first place."

"I can see that, but I know Carlton the best out of everyone here. That's who this is about, right? I heard the man talking about a detective, and you asked for his address. I'm not stupid."

Dean gave her a long, hard look. "Juliet, this is a bit more complicated than you think."

She glared defiantly at him. "And why's that?"

"Because your partner is Cain, as in Cain from the Bible." Juliet stared at them in stunned silence.


End file.
